Wasn’t it true that those beautiful children of Lir turned into flighty swans all gorgeous and flowing, wings blackened the sky and turned out the sun for a few seconds? Yes just like those remembrance birds things change. This Ghostown has changed, changed it’s mind and it’s clothes, smiling through lip gloss it burned the old one line descriptions alongside copies of the Playboy, anything Joycean and those dealer prams once full of cherries and sports socks cotton, rusting sadly slowly in sheds and factory carparks dying an awkward death of acceptance. Dublin’s nearly gone, hands up those who would completely change the name- get rid of the old tag and completely embrace it’s new mantle. If I heard that Croke Park had been usurped and branded like a cow with a tele-communications shield of dreams, i bet twenty no dead graves would turn, we would accept it and try rustle onto a late bus out of the rain maybe a tut tut and on home we’d go away from the moaning wet city. I wouldn’t be surprised, not in the least,
Not surprised in the least when I seen Fade street edge it’s way into our eyeliner, onto our horizon and screens, remember this! we wanted it, we wanted heroines that stood for our new city, four beauties that look nothing and yet look like everything we imagined ourselves to be? and now it’s appeared. We wanted diamonds and gold all the finest from everywhere, from the gloss magazines, lies and trickery pushing & rubbing each others noses into the soft soil stoney grey, looking for truffles and laptops and touch-screens, glamour and shape- allure and sparkle, how unbelievably close to Jessica and Miranda they are, how non Irish but more Irish than ever, we wanted it, we wanted it all and more.
So now it’s here and the evidence of so much facehunting has revved us upwards to Glee-ful expectation, we must accept our town is gone and we are now like a No-Ho or a So-Ho, disorientated by the downturn scrambling for reason and along come four saviors to show us the way, hammered online by vicious 140 character abuses there’s no getting away from the fact that this is what we actually look like now this is how we speak to each other, ruthless and awkward sad and unfunny, normal and whatever- anything less is embarrassingly weird sounding/ looking.
True to glorious form as soon as something like this pops up there’s outcry, as soon as it rains we hit the brakes. But acceptance is the highest form of humility and we Irish are really good at saying the food was lovely when it was actually revolting.
Its too late but take a good long look at yourself and if you don’t like it you could always protest and change it and then why not get baton charged by the government for not knowing your place, not knowing how to change it quietly because something inside strongly disagrees with it.
Of course it doesn’t mean I don’t like what I see! I actually think the show is brilliant simply because it’s reminded me of what we actually are, we’ll be remembered for people like Louis Walsh an less Father Ted, self obsessed rather than funny friendly Irish who’ll give you directions if you’re lost and more lipstick on wine glass than a nation of true creatives, with Daddys credit card- but then that’s a very very limited view isn’t it?